Snape Escapes
by PurplePrincess9195
Summary: Snape awakens to find himself in a bit of a bind.


Snape Escapes

A slightly suggestive short story by PurplePrincess9195

Professor Snape was not a man that was easily surprised. On the contrary, he was known for being an unshakable fixture at Hogwarts. Explosion in the Portions Lab? Snape didn't even blink. Student eaten in the Greenhouse? Not even a shrug from the brooding professor. Know-it-all casting an elaborate binding spell on him while he slept?

Okay, that raised an eyebrow at least.

It didn't take him long to figure out what had happened. He was naked, save for the thirty meters of rope that was wrapped around his person. He looked like a droll version of a damsel in distress about to be placed on the railroad tracks. Except he wasn't, and he wasn't, and the entire situation was not one where he would ever consider calling out for help.

Snape glanced around his tiny quarters, trying to figure out how he had come to be in this predicament. As his eyes drifted over the contents of his room, a faint, blurry picture was painted in the dark, groggy recesses of his mind.

"Last night," he said to himself, a bit slower than normal, "I spoke with Albus about…the dormitories." He looked at his robes, neatly folded and set to the side. There was a dark stain in the cloth.

"Then… I had…supper," he said as his mind worked to piece the evening together. "And there was a commotion in the halls. There….was a goblin. And a spoon." He frowned at the stain, remembering the tiny imp with the spoons full of food. The beast had run into the dining hall and flung pasta sauce directly at him, laughed maniacally, and then run off.

"I remember chasing the beast…" Snape said to himself. "Into a lavatory. And there was a mirror…"

Snape frowned. Someone had modified a memory spell and used the mirror to deliver it. That way, they could do it at an angle, so if he did manage to remember, the perpetrator would still be anonymous.

He looked around for his time piece, and saw that exactly six hours had past. "Very…precise." He tried wiggling out of his bonds, but found he was held fast.

"I must speak with Miss Granger about the…accuracy of her spells," Snape growled. Realizing he wouldn't be able to walk to his wand (which was sticking out of the folds of his robe, almost as if to taunt him), he started inching his way out of his bed. With a short tumble, he landed face-first on the floor.

"…Ouch," he mumbled.

Like an inch worm, but nearly six foot tall, naked, bound, and very pale, Snape started to crawl across the floor to the tiny desk that held his clothing. He nudged it with his body until the table fell over, bringing his wand to the floor. Grumbling, he nudged his way towards the wand, took it in his teeth, and looked around the room.

He was not a vain man, and no one would accuse Snape of being particularly into good hygiene, but he did have a mirror. Snape took aim, angled himself just so, and mumbled a releasing charm.

"Mummmfummmum!"

Despite his intent, wands are only so clever. The blast did in deed ricochet off the mirror and back to his bindings, which proceeded to burst into flames.

"_Granger_," Snape growled as the wand fell from his mouth. He scurried to roll over and extinguish the flames. Then, with a long sigh, he made his way towards his tiny vanity in the hopes of knocking his razor down.

_Some time later... _

Hermione Granger was exhausted. Their investigation of the woods had taken far longer than she had thought, a werewolf had chased them for a solid ten minutes, a spider caused Ron to have violent flashbacks to an event she had thankfully been left out of, and Hagrid had been cryptic about what they were searching for.

With a defeated sigh, she made her way to her dormitory, and proceeded to change out of her torn and stained robes, only to find herself frozen in place by a charm.

"What's going on?" She cried out, half alarmed and have annoyed. Normally, she would have been terrified, but she was so worn down that she just wasn't feeling it. "I'm seriously not in the mood for this," she said through her teeth.

Out of the shadows stepped a smoking, and slightly cut-up professor Snape. He was dressed, and pointing a wand at the struggling student. "Neither," he said with anger in his voice, "Was. I."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "What are you planning on doing, professor?"

Snape smiled (or did what passes for a smile with him, at any rate," reached into his robes, and pulled out the singed ropes that had held him.

"I think," he said through a pale smile, "It's time you served out a detention. With. Me."

Hermione paled. "Sir? I really don't think that's allowed."

Snape took the rope in his hands and advanced on the nervous young woman. "No," he said. "It is not."

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be doing fanfic. I would be on a cruise ship, permanently parked in a deck chair.


End file.
